


Frozen

by wigglebox



Series: Post-Season 15 Supernatural Fics / pre-finale [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Jesus cameo, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, yes Elieen is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 07:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wigglebox/pseuds/wigglebox
Summary: Jesus is watching.





	Frozen

They were in a church, of all places. 

The Lutheran church in Downs, Kansas had a nest of particularly nasty but stupid vampires. The group had just moved into town, and took up residence under the floorboards in spaces once used in the Underground Railroad. They were a new and sloppy, sending out the obvious clues that something was wrong with the sleepy little town. 

Dean and Cas traveled down. It was only a thirty minute drive down 181. They wound up going alone since Sam and Eileen extended their Montana ‘fishing’ trip by a week. 

It was easy to sneak in and take them out while they were sleeping in the mid-afternoon Kansas heat. Dean and Cas wanted one last sweep of the place before they waited for dark to burn off the bodies. 

Cas was checking the back room where the pastors prepared for mass while Dean went up and down the pews, checking for any more hollow spaces. He was bored. Bored and hot. 

Dean kicked a piece of paper that fell from a dilapidated hymnal tucked behind one of the seats. He was more annoyed that Sam and Eileen got to go off to some remote cabin for two weeks while he and Cas had to keep working. It had been case after case recently, and Dean was getting tired of it. They all decided to keep doing hunts, but he still wanted a break every now and then. 

Cas reemerged from the backroom, looking up at the walls next to crucified Jesus, knocking on the wood to make sure there was no hideout. 

Dean sat down in a back pew, confident they covered every inch of this place. He watched in silence as Cas finish investigating the atrium up front. They were barely into suppertime. They had nearly four hours to kill before they could finish the job. 

Sensing he was being watched, Cas turned and faced the nave, staring intently at Dean from across the space. Dean shifted in his seat, uncomfortable under his gaze. 

He wouldn’t dare. Not in a church. 

_Would he? Why would he, or you care?_

True, but Dean was still sitting on top of seven dead vampires. That was pretty twisted. 

But still, Cas kept is gaze at Dean, now leaning against the altar. Dean had to look away, feeling himself grow hot under the collar. 

“You feeling okay?” Cas’s voice drifted over to him. Dean closed his eyes, trying to not rise to the bait. 

One thing Dean didn’t expect but should have seen coming was just how much control Cas had over him during times like these. Angel or not, it didn’t matter. If anything, being human made it worse. There were no cosmic forces justifying his intimidation. They were on the same level now. 

Sometimes, Dean had a hard time giving up that power. 

He forced himself to keep looking out the window, trying to ignore Cas. 

They were in a _goddamn church_. 

Footsteps echoed in the empty space, going from carpet to hardwood, creeping closer. Dean could still feel Cas’s eyes on him, drilling holes in the back of his head. 

The wooden pew creaked with a new visitor, and Dean felt the man slide closer, inch by inch.. It was so dramatic, Dean had to smile. 

“What’s so funny?” The question so close it sounded like it was in his own head. He still wouldn’t look. 

“At this point? Everything.” 

What were they supposed to do with their free time? It’s not like they brought a gameboy. There was no motel. They could make a run back to the bunker, fuck a couple screws loose, then come back, but Dean knew well enough that they’d be too exhausted to even think about getting back in the car.

Dean felt a heavy hand on his upper thigh, finger tips digging into the denim just below where they should have been.

“This is a church,” he muttered, still looking out the window. 

“And your name is Dean, what does that matter?” 

Dean finally turned around to see Cas’s grinning, challenging face. Dean sighed, trying to regain some seriousness. 

“It’s sacreligious. Aren’t you afraid of going to hell?” Dean asked, batting his eyelashes. 

They both paused before erupted into laughter, the noise echoing into the fathers. 

“There are dead things under us, you do understand that right?” Dean eventually ask, bringing himself back under control. He stomped the floorboard for good measure.

Cas glanced down at the floor and then back up at Dean, still smirking in a way that signaled to Dean that he was no longer in control of whatever happened next. 

“It’s not like they can hear us.” 

Heat started to trickle over Dean as Cas cupped the back of his head with his free hand and pulled him forward into a scorching kiss.

Cas’s other hand on Dean’s thigh started to move higher and higher, but still staying away from its intended destination. Dean shifted his hips, trying to chase the pressure. Cas evaded.

Dean, wanting to play as well, ripped his mouth away and moved his head back.

“Wait. Stop.” 

Cas moved away as well, a look of concern falling over his face.

“Was that too much? Do you want to just go wait outside?” Cas sounded so sincere and so attentive Dean almost forgot where he wanted to go with this. It was amazing the switch that could happen with Cas. Most times, he stayed quiet when around other people but could flip in an instant and have Dean literally on his knees with two words as soon as the door closed behind them.

Dean always trusted Cas in situations like this, and wanted him to realize it was all part of the game. 

“We should pray first,” Dean stated, a serious as he could. 

In a flash, Cas’s face went from caring and concern to hot, dark - completely wanton. He caught on in an instant. It was a look that always shook Dean to his core, instantly flushing his body with hot fire and ready to let Cas do whatever he wanted to him. 

Instinctively, Dean moved back along the pew until it met the wall next to the window. He dropped one of his legs to the floor and moved the other knee up, inviting and enticing. He still had jeans on and the stretch of the fabric pulled tight over his groin, pressing down on the hardness there. It hurt, but in the best ways. 

Caswatched Dean take up his position, taking it all in with a straight face. 

“Don’t make me take you home and punish you.” 

Dean’s eyes widened. That was a new word added to their repertoire. 

Punish. 

His heart rate picked up as images flashed through his mind of what possible ‘punishment’ Cas was thinking of. Every single thing that came to mind would definitely make Jesus up there in the atrium blush. 

Dean wanted to investigate Cas’s claim, but he also didn’t think he could stand any more teasing. Besides, deep down he knew Cas wouldn’t tell him. He’d want to keep that a surprise.

Cas watched the range of emotions cascade over Dean’s face with a grin. The words had the desired effect. Dean felt himself starting to sweat through his shirt and suddenly felt constricted in every piece of fabric encasing his skin.

Without a word, Cas took the calf of Dean’s propped up leg and gently tugged, indicating he wanted Dean on his back.

The pew slanted slightly to where it met with the vertical back and Dean found himself shimmying all the way down so his head rested on the wood, his body leaning inwards. It wasn’t that comfortable, and Cas noticed. He took off the light jacket he had been wearing and tossed it over, letting Dean use it as a small pillow. 

Quick handiwork by Cas had Dean’s belt off in a flash and his fly wide open. Dean almost sighed with relief as the zipper and button no longer dug into his cock, now hard as a god damn rock. Cas tugged at the belt loops, and Dean lifted his hips obediently, but still tempted to stir the pot just a little more.

“You could use your words you know,” he suggested, shrugging his shoulders against the hard surface, looking up at the ceiling. He didn’t want to see Cas’s reaction. He knew he was pushing it. Whatever happened when they got back to the bunker was going to be _amazing_. 

Cas pulled at Dean’s pants a little more aggressively, sliding them down as far as he could with Dean’s position. 

As Cas thumbed the elastic of Dean’s boxer-briefs, a heavy door somewhere by the atrium opened. 

Before Dean could blink, or even think about moving, Cas had slid down to the floor wooden floor without a sound. He may not have any Angel grace left in him but he still had those reflexes. Good thing too because Dean almost sat bolt upright at the noise had it not been for the hand pressed into his chest. 

Dean stayed laying on the pew, staring up at the rafters as he heard muted footsteps over the carpet by the altar. A man started to whistle, and what Dean figured was a book hit the lectern, pages rustling.

The pastor came back. 

He wasn’t supposed to be back until morning. The congregation didn’t have a Wednesday mass. For some reason, the damn man decided that _now_ was a great time to catch up on bible study. 

Dean held his breath.

The altar wasn’t raised high, and they were far back in the church, hidden by the high backs of the pews. They were safe for now, but what if Pastor McJesus decided to wander? Check the seats to make sure everyone had their hymnals --

Dean’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when he felt a wet, tight heat slide down his cock. Whatever breath he held he exhaled as quietly as he could in his state of shock.

He didn’t want to risk moving his head in case the pastor had eyes like a hawk. Dean’s breath began again, but shallower.

The heat was gone as soon as it came, making Dean almost cry out. Before he could, a hand slid over his mouth, and Cas moved right next to his ear.

“You make a sound, and it’s game over,” he whispered, masked in a quiet exhale. Dean nodded, still not able to turn his head. He wanted to so bad but he just couldn’t.

Public sex wasn’t new to Dean. Bars, parks, even a warehouse at some point -- he was experienced and bold enough to try it with a lot of people, including the man right next to him. But this really did feel more sacrilege, not that any of them cared about churches. They knew too much to hold any value to the things. However, the man at the altar of a small church in a small town in the middle of Kansas might have something to say if he caught the two of them. People had deep convictions, tempers, and guns here.

And besides, Dean and Cas still had work to do at the church. 

The hot, wet suction dove down again, all the way. A white hot lightning bolt ripped through Dean again and he couldn’t help but move his arm up to his mouth and bite down. 

Blowjobs weren’t out of the ordinary but the situation added the excitement. The fear was the x factor, and damn if Cas didn’t know that. 

Dean didn’t need much at this point, but Cas seemed to want to go the extra mile. When he ascended, he created as much pressure as he could. Once at the top, his tongue did a wonder all on it’s own for a few moments before going back down so far, that Dean could feel the back of Cas’s throat. 

He wanted to scream. 

All Dean could do was squeeze his eyes shut until little stars exploded behind them and leave his arm in his mouth. 

It didn’t help that Cas’s hands began to wander. He dragged his fingers lightly over the sensitive crease that joined leg to hip, making Dean’s leg twitch, wanting to squirm. Another hand found its way up Dean’s shirt, sliding up and up until fingertips danced across his chest. When one circled an already taught nipple, Dean almost bucked his hips straight up into Cas’s face. He was too sensitive. 

Up, swirl, down -- up, swirl, down --

At one point, Cas stayed at the top for so long, Dean was scared he’d be left with blue balls as a sick joke. But, the tease ended and Cas sank back down. Dean craved movement. He wanted to move his hips, grip Cas’s hair -- _something_.

But he stayed frozen. All he could do was lay there, and feel.

The pastor was still whistling, a sound that every so often made it past the blood rushing in Dean’s ears. It was surreal. 

Dean could only imagine the look Cas was giving him the entire time, eyes watching every expression closely, analyzing Dean’s reaction to everything.

It took almost no time for Dean to reach the edge. 

His arm’s moved automatically before he could stop them, one hand gripping the top of the pew, and the other hanging onto the edge of the seat as tight as he could. 

Cas withdrew to the tip-top again, holding his lips there. Dean moved his head now, Pastor be damned. The sight before him was one he wished he could have burned into his mind until the day he died. 

Even without Dean’s help, Cas looked disheveled. His hair wasn’t wild but his face was red, lips swollen and cheeks hollowed. But it was his eyes that made Dean completely tumble over. They were so dark, so intense -- almost threatening. 

Dominating. 

He couldn’t hold on anymore. 

Dean, by some miracle, managed to stay quiet, whines and cries coming out in short bursts of breath. But, he couldn’t help but move. He bucked his hips up as he felt like his entire lower half was melting into the wood he laid out on. The lack of oxygen triggered black spots in his vision as he felt Cas swallow around him. It was _way too much_. 

His hips automatically moved in every which way as he came down, needing to spend his energy in some way. Dean draped the arm gripping onto the back of the pew over his eyes, drawing in deep, long breaths of air as the tried to regain control of himself. He was dimly aware of Cas’s lips wandering all over whatever exposed skin was available. Everything felt raw, even though he was mostly still clothed. 

A sudden panic rose in Dean when he remembered the whole damn reason why he had to stay quiet and still.

But -- 

The whistling was gone, and the church stood quiet again. Dean expected to sit fully up and see the pastor just staring at them in abject horror. But when Dean summoned the strength to lift himself up on one elbow, he didn’t see the Pastor anywhere. The atrium only contained Jesus up on his cross and the book still at the lectern. The Pastor was gone. 

Dean looked back down at Cas who wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, also trying to catch his breath. 

“Where did he go?” Dean asked, his voice a harsh whisper from all the cries that died in his throat. 

Cas shrugged, lifting himself up on his knees and looking around. 

“Maybe to the back. We should get out of here while we can.”

Dean scoffed as he drew his pants up, wincing when he closed the zipper, “Do you think I can possibly stand right now?”

Cas shrugged again and knocked on the wood floor, “You’re going to have to eventually. We still have vampires to burn.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous submitted #41 and #1 from the smut prompts list:
> 
> “Don’t make me take you home and punish you.”  
> “You make a sound and its game over.”
> 
> Send me a smut prompt on my tumblr (same name as ao3) 
> 
> ......  
> If I go to hell it was worth it.


End file.
